


Sweater Weather

by stratusdreams



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I APOLOGIZE, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Overdue confessions, Trigger warning: being thrown out, Unrequited Love, Vodka, brief mentions of Thomas, but not really, kind of angsty oh, rated for drinking, there's just a glass or two involved, these tags are shitty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:24:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1353937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratusdreams/pseuds/stratusdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snowstorm brings out the love in two people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweater Weather

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for clicking on this story! I hope you enjoy it uwu
> 
> Loosely based on "Sweater Weather" by the Neighboorhood.

The snow storm raged on outside as Eren stared out his window. It was five o’clock in the evening, but it looked more like nine. The chill seeped in through the cracks in the walls and the area around the door. Eren pulled his oversize hoodie closer to his body. It’d been an old ex-boyfriend’s sweater, three or four sizes too large for Eren. Not that he cared. It was more comfortable that way. Besides, his ex’s smell had been washed out of it; hell, Eren couldn’t even remember the ex’s name. All he could remember was that they broke up years ago. No use in holding onto a dead memory.

He stood up from his chair, grimacing as the sole light bulb went out above his head. His living room-and whole house, for that matter-was only lighted by the fireplace, burning bright in the hearth. Eren sighed softly, turning to the dark kitchen. He walked into it, opening a cabinet and pulling out ten candles. He took two of the candles back into the living room, setting them on a tray and lighting them both with a lighter he left on his coffee table. He hated using the candles. They just never gave off enough light.

Eren reached for his remote, flipping the TV to a weather station. He sat for about five minutes, listening to the weather reports. Snow was falling all over the Midwest, spitting in the face of the ongoing drought. But even this much precipitation wouldn’t be enough; there would have to be so much more. Luckily, yet another snowstorm would be moving in the next day. At least the land had nothing to worry about.

Eren leaned back into his couch, tilting his head back. The cheery weather woman switched her focus, detailing the weather in Florida and rambling about a few storms off the coast. He sat back up, feeling the blood rushing to his head, and grabbed the remote. He changed it to a music station, feeling that nothing good was on. He turned it down low, to where it was barely audible. He didn’t need to hear it, anyway; the only real reason he left it on was because of the light.

A knock sounded at the door. Eren whipped his head toward the sound, confused. Who would be here in the middle of a snowstorm?

“Coming,” he called, getting up and limping to the door. He glanced at the baseball bat by the door, praying he wouldn’t have to use it. Slowly, he opened the door, and a feeling of relief washed over him.

Armin, his best friend, stood in the door. His hair was covered in snow, and ice accumulated on his eyelashes. He looked like he’d been stuck in a freezer and just barely been taken out to thaw. He wore a slight grimace and four layers of shirts. His jeans were rumpled, spilling out his thick snow boots. 

“Did ya just roll out of bed?” Eren asked, stepping aside and letting Armin inside.

“No,” the blond huffed, taking his multiple coats off and putting them on the rack by the door. “My washing machine and dryer stopped working, and my stupid dog took the hair brush…”

“In other words, you just rolled out of bed.”

“Shush, you.”

Eren laughed, crossing his arms as he watched Armin struggle with his layers. Once Armin had succeeded in shedding the coats, Eren led him to the kitchen.

“Want some hot chocolate?” He asked, opening a cabinet and pulling out two mugs.

“Yeah, that sounds nice right about now.”

Eren simply nodded, choosing not to speak. Armin seemed to be in an irritable mood. Then again, it was cold outside, and the blonde’s bones always ached in the winter months. Besides, Armin was having a few skirmishes with his family, so Eren couldn’t blame him for feeling a bit snappy.

After ten minutes of silence, Eren looked up from his mug and sighed softly before speaking. “Why’d you come over? Family trouble?”

“Of course,” Armin grumbled. “They just can’t accept me, you know? And it kills me every time.” His shoulders dropped a little, like his hope was leaving his body. “I just don’t understand why they can’t accept me. I still like girls, but can’t I be interested in both genders without them flipping?” He paused briefly, collecting himself. “I might get kicked out.”

Eren nodded, grimacing. Armin’s family wasn’t particularly religious, but they were very traditional and Eren would even go as far as to say they were rather bigoted. Armin’s sexuality wasn’t something they approved of, and though it was never actually brought up, it was the center of all arguments in the Arlert household. 

“It’s fucked up,” Eren agreed, taking a sip from his hot chocolate.

Armin sighed before setting his mug down. “You’re wearing that hoodie. Didn’t Thomas give it to you?”

“Fuck, I don’t remember his name,” Eren replied. “But you’re probably right. And yeah, I am wearing it. It’s comfy.”

The blond smiled at this slightly, picking his mug back up and drinking from it. “You’ve got an amazing ability to let go of things, Eren. I’m jealous of it.”

“Huh?”

“Well, like the hoodie. Your ex-boyfriend left it at your house. You broke up on pretty rough terms, but you can wear that hoodie and not be reminded of it. You can let go so easily.”

Eren stared into his hot chocolate, feeling the weight of Armin’s words on top of him. As usual, the blond was right. Eren had “let go”, but it was more like he had repressed the memories. And repressing things was so much more painful than remembering and letting go.

When he looked back up, Armin was staring from across the table. A soft expression donned his face, and he reached out and touched Eren’s hand. “Hey,” he whispered softly, “it’s alright. I promise.”

Eren forced a smile. “T-thank you.”

Armin nodded, standing up. “I’m heading to the living room. You coming?”

“Give me a minute.”  
\------  
Eren entered the living room a few minutes later, a bottle of vodka and two glasses in hand. Armin looked at him curiously. “What’s that for?”

“I figured we both needed it,” Eren said as he sat down, opening the vodka and pouring a little into the glasses. “This ain’t nearly as strong as the Russian stuff I usually have, but it’ll have to do.”

Armin snatched a glass from him, downing half of it in a few moments. Though he’d never admit it, Armin enjoyed vodka, enjoyed the burning in the back of his throat. Admittedly, Eren liked the burning, too. But mostly, Eren liked how if he drank enough vodka, it began to taste a little bit like love.

Minutes passed without as much as a word between them. It wasn’t until three glasses had been passed between them (two from Armin, while Eren had nurtured his for a good while) that they spoke.

“Hey, uh, Eren?”

“Hmm?” Eren said, feeling a bit woozy. Unlike Armin, who had a high resistance to liquor, Eren got tipsy within a glass and usually restricted himself to just one. 

“Have you ever…have you ever loved someone so much? Like, they’re your everything. Your moon, your stars, your wintery sky, the snow on your lashes. They mean so much to you…have you ever had someone like that?”

Eren stared at him, feeling himself grow warm from both the alcohol and his embarrassment. Yes, he had. And that person was in that room with him, staring at him earnest blue eyes. “Y-yeah,” he said quietly, praying he wasn’t blushing.

“Me too,” Armin said softly. “Think ya know who it is?”

“I have a good idea,” Eren murmured, leaning forward a little. He closed his eyes halfway, breathing slowly. This was a dream, it was because of the vodka this was happening. Eren tried to convince himself of these things, but he abandoned them within moments. He pinched himself just to make sure, and the pain was real. Just like this.

Armin moved a little closer, his hand reaching out to touch Eren’s knee, rubbing circles. “I..I tried to deny it. I’m so sorry, Eren. I should have said something earlier…” 

“It’s fine, Armin…It really is. To be honest, I’ve had a crush on you. A tiny crush at first, but when I saw how well you handled your family, I began to fall in love a little more. I noticed that you always put me before yourself, no matter the circumstance. And I should have realized it earlier…I should have told you…But I was scared and—“

And that was when Armin kissed him.

It was a gentle kiss, just a press of lips. Armin pulled himself a bit closer, wrapping both his arms around Eren’s neck. Soon, he’s on Eren’s lap, pulling his hair and writhing around a bit. It’s all so painfully sweet. So many years of pent-up love, pooling over and flooding the room. Eren felt like he was drowning from the intoxicating outpouring of love, but it was the best kind of drowning; the kind that instead of filling you with death and misery, it filled you with hope. And hope was the most beautiful kind of love.

Armin was the first to pull away, his face flushed and hair messy. “Eren,” he breathed out, “I love you.”

Eren smiled a little, pushing his face into the blonde’s shoulder. “I love you too, Armin. I love you too.”


End file.
